


mirror through your eyes

by Redburn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Swap AU, M/M, Slow Build, Team Bonding, ambiguous timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redburn/pseuds/Redburn
Summary: Keith and Lance accidentally swap bodies. Indefinitely.He finally opens his eyes, heavy lidded, and he turns with straining muscles to where Lance's voice had spoken back to him. Only he never comes to find Lance, instead his own face is staring back at him in horror, and it takes him a good moment to understand why that is. With slow movement, he looks down to see hands that aren't his, clothes that aren't his, and he can feel his heart rate kick into overdrive.“Oh god,” he mumbles.*Chapter 2 up soon I promise!! xx*





	mirror through your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> heyyy-yoooo!
> 
> it's been a while since I've posted something new! this particular idea has been on my mind for a while, and I finally pushed myself to finish this first part off in the past few days :) I'm planning it to be a small series, with some sequels, because who doesn't love a good old classic body swap fic, amirite? (and for anyone wondering, it's set primarily in the first season)
> 
> Big thanks to [Bella](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seyama/pseuds/seyama) for all the amazing support! Love u boo! I hope you all enjoy this four part story, and right now it's unbeta'd, so apologies for now until I go over it a few times ahah! xx

When Keith had first signed up for this whole 'saving the Universe gig', he somehow managed to forget amongst all the 'blowing-up-robots' parts, that in any political war they were bound to visit multiple planets over their journey through space, meeting countless races that luckily Allura and Coran would take the reigns in discussing their alliances. It wasn't new information he still had trouble keeping his cool in social situations, even after he'd had numerous talks with his team on improving those issues.

He likes to hope he was better now, if not he tends to keep out of the way when visiting new planets and their councils. He would play the part, though, dressing up in the garments the Altean's had picked out for all of the Paladins a few months ago. Each outfit still pertained to their signature colour scheme, so there was no confusion when interacting with their hosts. He felt rather silly, still not quite used to dressing up nicely, his mind extremely conscious of the way it drew attention towards him.

Shiro was standing by Allura, the almost black-purple of his robes contrasting nicely with the blue and white of the princesses dress. Coran had made his way towards the far side of the ballroom, talking animatedly with a councilwoman (if his wild hand gestures were anything to go by). Hunk and Pidge had walked off in favour of exploring the ins and outs of the Palace's technological advancements beyond what they've come across on their travels so far. And Lance... was no where in sight, apparently.

Keith scoffs lightly, already imagining all of the possibilities of Lance's disappearance. Flirting with any of the female council members? The most likely cause. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom? Again, likely—these drinks they were handing around for the party were incredibly strong, he thinks he might need to excuse _himself_ soon. But as his boredom grew and Lance's presence still wasn't known, Keith decides to take the matter into his own hand, as well as to kill some time.

He waves discreetly to catch Shiro's attention and makes a few gestures he knows Shiro will understand. Shiro gives him a pointed look in return, _'Just don't do anything reckless, okay?'_ it means, but it was all the permission Keith needs. He rolls his eyes back but agrees nevertheless.

So he leaves the bustling voices of the room and chooses one of the larger halls to walk down, letting the curious part of him enjoy all of the history laced throughout the Palace. Sculptures of past rulers loom over him as he strolls leisurely, his footsteps echoing against the deep marble floors. Lymikens, the locals of this planet, were certainly a proud race, and from what he's seen has a strikingly similar culture to that of Earth (minus most of Earth's flaws, though). It wasn't until he reaches the end of the hallway that he hears another noise, coming from a stairwell that seems to lead up to an observation deck. He figures it was a start.

He reaches the top in no time, admiring the view for a moment, looking out beyond the Palace walls to the bright landscape of the city. It was a breathtaking sight, he could admit, and for a brief moment he could almost imagine it was a city back home on Earth—minus all of the floating vehicles, of course. He tears his gaze away when the noise presents itself again, and he follows it until he rounds a large pillar to find none other than Lance himself, who,by the looks of it, has a female companion with him.

“Oh,” Keith says, his past assumption appearing to be true, but he suddenly feels a twinge of guilt that he intruded.

“Oh,” Lance repeats back to him, straightening ever so slightly, his eyes quickly darting between Keith and the woman. Then he plasters on a grin. “Hey, Keith. Want to join us? It's a nice view over here.”

“Uh,” Keith frowns, having a hard time trying to figure out of Lance is being sincere or not. But he thinks of the party still happening downstairs, and realises staying here actually sounds a lot more tolerable. “Sure.”

“Oh, and this is Byrila,” Lance gestures to the woman, and Keith nods respectively. “She's one of this city's top Aerospace Engineer's.”

“Oh, you're sweet,” she laughs softly, one of her four arms tucking some strands of hair behind the horn curling out from her temple. She then turns to Keith. “And you are the Red Paladin. Impressive stuff.”

“Not really,” Keith dismisses, bashful under the praise. “It's mostly just flying around and shooting at stuff. Allura and Coran deserve the credit.”

“Agreed, but shooting stuff _is_ awesome though,” Lance interjects, his elbow meeting Keith's side.

“I'm sure it is,” Byrila laughs gently.

“Except not when stuff is being shot _at you_ in return,” Lance continues, grimacing slightly. Keith makes a small noise in agreement.

“Well,” Byrila steps away from the railing and sends the both a wave. “I hate to leave so soon, but I must head back. It was lovely meeting you both,” she smiles one more time before disappearing down the staircase.

A few moments pass while Keith looks out towards the lights again, and then he says, “Sorry to have interrupted your... date.”

Lance laughs shortly, mildly humourless. “Not a _date,_ weirdo _._ In fact, she asked to show _me_ the view up here. Felt rude to say no.”

Keith fiddles with his fingers, suddenly unsure of how to react. “Oh, alright.”

“What, you jealous?” Lance teases, but there's something else creeping in his tone.

“No,” Keith says, because really.

He can feel Lance's gaze on him, and he's suddenly not sure why he feels like he's under the spotlight. He thinks his face has always been easy to read, not matter how much he thinks he's perfected his 'resting bitch face'. Anger can only be used so many times before it starts to grow old. He draws out a sigh, glancing at Lance out of the corner of his eye.

Lance is frowning slightly. “Why do you always think I'm just in this to get with girls, or something?”

Keith starts at that, a small wave of guilt crashing into him. But then that tide draws back out right on cue, mixing with the rest of his emotions, and he taps into the first one he gets in the mix: defensive. “Well, you can't deny you do it a lot.”

“Sure, maybe. But that doesn't make me any less qualified to do this job,” Lance scowls. Keith knows he should stop before it gets worse, but there's something about Lance that still manages to bring out this ugly side of him.

“I didn't _say_ that, I just meant—”

“Oh, no. I know _exactly_ what you meant, Keith. 'Shiro's right-hand man, who always knows what to do regardless of the consequences'.”

Keith throws his arms up, anger seeping through his tired mind. “That's not always my choice! It's just sometimes, under different circumstances—”

“Oh, that is _bull_.” Lance inches closer, eyes ablaze.

“Would you _stop_?” He hisses. “It's because I was the better flyer back at the Garrison, isn't it? When are you going to just let that go?”

Lance flinches. “Whoa, are we really going there?”

Keith doesn't regret it, those words finally settling out in the open where he's wanted them to be for some time now. But he swallows the rest of his anger and steps back quickly, anyway. _Not here, don't get into it here._ “No, I... I'm going to go back to the party.”

Lance shakes his head, the fire clearly still burning. “C'mon, Keith. Let's talk about this. We can't continue to be on the same team if we're always going to disagree about everything.”

_Don't take the bait, don't take the bait, don't ta—_

Keith wants to do the exact opposite, because a petty squabble is the last thing he wants to deal with right now. Clearly, his sessions with the team have been improving _greatly_. “If you hadn't noticed, it's _you_ always starting these arguments.”

“Oh no, you can't pin this _all_ on me. Seriously, stop avoiding—”

Suddenly a loud crash vibrates across the balcony, and both Paladins turn instantly, stances ready to attack. Keith hates feeling defenceless in the fact he doesn't have a weapon right now, but he draws up his fists in preparation anyway and Lance does the same. They both cautiously inch closer around the second pillar to find a cloud of smoke finish dispersing, leaving behind a cloaked figure in it's wake. Keith stills his breathing, and they both wait.

The figure turns, and they're both met with a person who's appearance is much like their hosts downstairs. Only they seem distinctly older, with fraying hair and a small hunch in their posture, and once they notice the two Paladins standing by their lips curve up into a charming smile. They seem oddly familiar. Keith frowns, lowering his fists slightly, and he shares a glance with Lance to communicate silently.

“Ah, the Red and Blue Paladins,” a feminine voice greets them, stepping towards them to place a hand each over all of their fists, fitting them back down to the Paladins sides. Another smile as she pats their cheeks. “I was told the Defenders of the Universe were a handsome bunch.”

She walks back over to where a sack lays on the floor where she had appeared, rummaging through it as she hums harmlessly under her breath. Keith and Lance share another look before Keith cautiously steps forward, and then it hits him where he's seen her before.

“Hey... you—you're one of the statues downstairs, in the massive hallway, right? Your name is Grethina?”

She releases a small 'ha!' sound when she finds what she's looking for, pulling out a clear bottle full of purple liquid. She looks between the two Paladins, and nods at Keith in confirmation.

“That is right my child, you have a good eye,” her two left arms appear with a goblet in each, and she begins pouring the purple drink carefully, blowing on them a few times as the vapours float above.

“Keith, who is she?” Lance half-whispers.

“Uh,” he tries recalling the plaque with struggling effort, “She was the adviser for the previous King, I think.”

“So, what? Is she supposed to be _dead_ or something since she has a statue in her honour?”

Keith has no goddamn idea. “I hope not.”

“You boys are terrible whisperers,” she laughs airily, shoving a goblet each in their unsuspecting hands.

They look down at the drinks and then back up at her. There's a moment of silence, and Keith knows for a fact he's supposed to now drink whatever this is, but every sign is telling him not to. Lance seems to be on the same page. Grethina urges them with some nods, waiting expectantly.

“Uh, not to be rude, but what is this?” Lance says.

Her eyes gleam. “It is a drink that helps ones truly in need to see... more eye to eye. Your arguing before called out to me, so now I am here to help you both and to restore a level of peace amongst you.”

“Forgive us, but it's not necessary,” Keith tries to hand the goblet back. “We're fine as we are. And it's not like we know you enough to trust you.”

“Sorry, but I'm with Keith on this one,” Lance agrees.

She seems to release a sigh, making no move to recollect the goblets. A low whine of wind passes by, the air suddenly cold around them. “How can our race know to trust _you_ to lead us to victory if you are constantly engaged in squabbles?”

Keith's parted mouth snaps shut, hand clenching around the cup periodically, while Lance mutters something unintelligible under his breath. She has a point, Keith thought begrudgingly, and he doesn't want to create any conflicts with their race while they're here to form an alliance. Both Paladins turn to face one another, searching the other's eyes, and come to a hesitant agreement.

“Fine,” Keith says to the room.

“For the greater good,” Lance clinks his cup to Keith's, lips pursed. Grethina watches intently as they raise the goblets to consume the purple liquid in one long swing. It tastes vaguely of grapes, and it's surprisingly cold as it runs down his throat. Now empty, they hand the goblets back to her, feeling nothing in particular change drastically. That's good, then. She smiles at them, clearly pleased.

“Okay, so...” Lance draws out, gaze darting between them. “What was supposed to happen?”

“I don't exactly feel different,” Keith says.

“Same.”

“Be patient, young Paladins,” Grethina moves away, back to her bag, and disposes of the items with quiet precision. Before she leaves, she continues, “You will learn to see how the other feels, to make yourselves stronger and make your bond deeper. When the time is right, all shall return as it once was.”

And with those final words she departs in a flash of smoke much like when she arrived, and both Paladins are left to wonder what exactly she meant.

“That was...” Keith starts.

“Yeah...” Lance frowns.

Before he can suggest they should go back to rejoin the party, a weight suddenly settles hard on his shoulders, as if his feet were being physically rendered to the stone floor. His breaths grow shallow, a headache splitting his mind open like the parting of the sea.

Lance appears no better when he checks. “What the fuck?” He rasps, eyes wide with fear.

“Shit,” Keith curses, and then like a swift kick to the stomach the air from his lungs escapes him, and his knees crash to the ground, Lance following shortly after. He struggles for a few seconds to chase away the pain, but it's no use, and the last thing he sees are the deep blue shade of Lance's wide, scared eyes before everything goes dark.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes, there's a faint throbbing at the back of his head and the lingering taste of grapes still in his mouth. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut as he attempts to right himself into a sitting position.

“Lance?” He asks blindly, trying to will his panic, and—wait, why does his voice sound like...

“Keith?”

He finally opens his eyes, heavy lidded, and he turns with straining muscles to where Lance's voice had spoken back to him. Only he never comes to find Lance, instead his own face is staring back at him in horror, and it takes him a good moment to understand why that is. With slow movement, he looks down to see hands that aren't his, clothes that aren't his, and he can feel his heart rate kick into overdrive.

“Oh god,” he mumbles, and in front of him, Lance— _his own face_ —mirrors Keith's growing worry, ragged breaths leaving _his_ mouth.

“That crazy witch!” Lance yells, and _jesus_ , Keith cannot get over this. “This is supposed to _help_ us!?”

This is nuts, this is beyond what they're equipped for—even though they pilot giant flying robot lions through space and have met an entire race of floating heads, this is still somehow the strangest thing that's happened to them so far.

“No, no, no, no—” Lance shakes his head in disbelief, _Keith's head_ , hair falling into his wide eyes.

It's his voice, his face and his body, _all_ in front of him—every last part of himself sits on the floor merely 2 metres away, but he's stuck over here, in _Lance's_ body. When he moves his joints again he notices the differences instantly, like he's breaking in a pair of new shoes that don't fit quite right yet. He flexes his right hand against the stone floor, then his left, noting how much slender they are, and he releases another shaky breath before running them through his now _much_ shorter hair.

“What the hell do we do?” Lance says, looking over his new vessel quickly before his desperate gaze locks onto Keith's again.

“I think... we need to read the final print on that plaque and find out who she really was,” Keith grits out, because he can't really think of anything else.

“Sure, then what?”

“I don't know!” Keith finally pushes himself up to stand, head dizzy, a heat coursing through him at an alarming rate as he tries his best to calm down. Lance follows the movement and meets him at eye level—or, almost, since he's now a couple inches shorter.

“I have no idea,” he breathes in deeply through his nose, steadying himself against the pillar for purchase. “We should... tell someone.”

Lance nods franticly and adds on to Keith's sort-of plan as he paces. “Maybe just one person for now, though. How about Coran? If he's not busy with the council.”

“Okay,” Keith agrees, even though _nothing_ about this situation is okay.

At all.

 

* * *

 

Like Keith had suggested, they checked the plaque on their way back to the party, but regrettably it provided little to no information on who exactly that woman had been besides the aforementioned title. Lance had released a string of curses, and Keith felt much of the same. She was still meant to be alive, though, so that was a load off their minds.

As they continue to walk his legs feel wobbly under each step he takes, like he was a stumbling drunk, or like an uncoordinated infant. Every small thing he used to do before suddenly felt a whole lot harder; the flesh and bones of Lance's body aching like a dull throb right under the surface of his skin.

He watches his own body move along next to him, like it was some fucked up out-of-body experience. Only he wasn't dying. Lance seems no better; teeth digging into his bottom lip, fingers twitching by his side. Keith thinks he should try to comfort him in some way, but he's not sure how. Scared that any physical contact right now might forever make this bizarre situation step over into 'completely batshit insane' territory.

He settles for words instead.

“It's gonna be okay. Uh... we'll fix this.”

Lance's laugh is forced. “That should be our team slogan.”

“Lance,” Keith stops, words on the tip of his tongue, but nothing comes out. He tries to recall any time he'd been reassuring to someone on the team, to tap into that again to help Lance right now, but his mind was coming up frustratingly empty. _Why?_

Thankfully Lance picks up on his struggles and lets out a sigh. “C'mon, let's just find Coran, for now.”

Keith nods curtly like his lips were suddenly sealed shut, and they start up again down the hall. Once they had found Coran a few minutes later and pulled the other man aside, it was a lot easier to convince him they had switched bodies then they originally thought it would be. Keith wasn't quite sure what to make of that information.

“Well boys, this is quite the fuddlesnip of a situation you've gotten yourselves into,” Coran says as he looks between them both, before reaching out to inspect Lance's— _Keith's_ —head. Lance bats him away with a scowl. “Hmm,” Coran muses, pulling away. “What did she say to you exactly when it happened?”

“She...” Keith blanks, looking to Lance for help.

Lance finishes for him. “She said once we learn to understand each other better, 'all shall return as it once was',” he air-quotes irritably.

“Oh,” Coran brightens up. “Well, that's not so bad.”

Keith feels his eyes twitch. “What?” He almost hisses.

“Ah, what I mean is—” Coran clears his throat, his eyes much softer. “Sorry, I still forget sometimes that you Earthlings don't take magic so lightly.”

“We like the 'guess which card I'm holding' and 'pulling rabbits out of hats' magic, but not _this,_ ” Lance gestures between himself and Keith.

“Rabbits? Sounds fascinating, are they anything like—”

“Coran,” Keith interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Ah, right, sorry.” He smiles sheepishly. “So, what I meant before, is that I wouldn't fret too much. Interesting fact, it's actually a common practice among their race to solve arguments by swapping lives with the other. What is it you Earthlings say? 'Walk a mile in my shoes'?”

“We're in the middle of a _war_ ,” Keith seethes, “Nothing about this situation is going to help us right now.”

Coran pauses for a moment, and then gives them both sympathetic smiles. “It is not ideal, no. But perhaps... it could help you both to improve your teamwork. There's no denying it's still a bit rusty.”

Keith chews in his bottom lip warily, while Lance turns away to look at practically anything else. He couldn't ignore the truth in Coran's words, but... why did it have to be resolved _this_ way? What if this change affected the team even worse? What if something fatal were to happen to either of them while still in the others body? What if they never changed back at _all_?

“Coran, can we wait to tell the other's until we're back on the ship?”

“Yes, I think that might be best,” Coran nods, angling away. “I'll run further research on Grethina while we're still here. I hope I can find something of use.” And with that, he walks away, leaving Keith and Lance behind in a somewhat awkward silence.

“Is your feeling about this as bad as mine?” Lance almost whispers.

Keith can't find it in himself to agree out loud, tongue heavy and head still throbbing faintly. He glances down to his hands again, finding them in fists by his sides. He unclenches them, breathing out slowly through gritted teeth.

'Bad' was an understatement.

 

* * *

 

Keith was immensely glad they hadn't flown their lions here, and instead had landed the castleship down to remain safely at the Lymikens border patrol station located near their city's perimeter. He's sure Red would still recognise it was his presence inside Lance's body, but none of them knew what would happen if he was to be rejected. The link that they all shared with their lions hadn't been built up enough yet, so any surprises now might not go over so well with them.

He and Lance somehow managed to remain collected for the rest of the evening, mostly keeping to themselves until the others were ready to disembark.

They hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary about Lance in his body, considering how tense they both felt right now, but Hunk had sent Keith a look or two when he hadn't given Hunk his usual megawatt smile when he and Pidge had rejoined the party.

They had all received an escort back to the castleship, with Allura and Coran thanking them once again before they all made their way inside, feet sore and bones tired, ready to sleep the night off. But Coran had pulled Keith aside, leaning over to whisper:

“Would you like to inform the rest of the group now?”

Keith catches Lance's gaze when he turns to watch them, and in it a silent agreement makes itself known. “Now.”

Luckily, Coran takes the reigns and gathers everyone into the seating area. Hunk sits down with a heaving sigh, already removing the heavier parts of his garments, while Pidge seems to be on the brink of sleep next to him. Shiro doesn't seem any better, and Allura was sending Coran a curious glance while he walks over to whisper something to her, and in turn her gaze lands on Lance. Keith suddenly has no idea how this is going to go down.

“So,” Keith decides to break the ice, “We, uh... have something we need to tell you all. It's important you don't freak out.”

“I thought something must've been off,” Hunk says, and Pidge frowns. “What's up buddy? Did a pretty alien trick you out of something again?”

“As if!” Lance scoffs, and all eyes shift to him. “I mean...”

Keith sighs inwardly, and he crosses his arms tightly, attempting to even his breaths. Then he forces his eyes to meet Allura's while his mouth struggles to spit out the words. “We kind of... Lance and I... switched bodies.”

They're met with silence, but that was one thing he had expected. Hunk was busy looking back and forth between the two and Pidge was frowning still, but her eyes had widened behind her glasses. Shiro's face was twisted up, like he was deciphering a really complicated joke. And Allura...

“Haha!” She barks, before covering her mouth quickly, mildly apologetic.

Lance throws his arms up. “You Alteans and your amusement about all of this is really not helping!”

“You're right, Lance. I'm sorry, this isn't a laughing matter,” Allura says calmly, but a small smile still lingers on her lips.

“Wait, you're not joking?” Shiro asks with a lace of concern.

“Sadly, no,” Keith mutters.

“How the hell did this happen?” Hunk questions them both, unable to decide on which of them to watch as he waits for an answer.

“An old woman tricked us into drinking this potion stuff, thinking it'll help us to stop bickering, and then BAM!” Lance cries, throwing a hand in Keith's direction. “Keith is now occupying my body, and dammit, you better take care of it!”

“This is the _opposite_ of staying out of trouble,” Shiro pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly done with everything right now. Keith feels much of the same.

“Send him off with the cow, and he comes back with magic beans,” Pidge snorts. Lance shoots her a glare.

Coran clears his throat, grabbing their attention. “I conducted some further research about the situation, and the Lymikens believe very strongly on this particular method of handling disputes. Unfortunately, there's no known reversal spell to undo it. But almost all cases have never gone on longer than several months.”

“Months?” Lance sputters, walking over to Coran to shake him vigorously. “No, no way. This can't be happening. Allura – Shiro – tell us this isn't happening!”

Shiro had taken to sitting down as well, and he looks like a fish out of water, unsure of what to say to make the situation better. Allura seems slightly more sympathetic now, though, and shares a look with Coran.

“Coran and myself can return to the Palace tomorrow to see if something can be done, otherwise...”

“Allura,” Keith cuts in, frustration bubbling inside him again. He knows he needs to leave the room soon before he blows up in anyone's face. “What if we _never_ turn back? What about our _lions_? The _Galra Empire_? This could ruin everything we've been working towards for _months_ —”

“Keith,” Shiro's voice slices through, and Keith clings to it, focusing on his happy place before darker parts of his mind decide to wonder, unwelcome.

“Let me worry about that for now, Keith,” Allura assures him, but she too sounds tired.

“This is just... really weird, man,” Hunk says, fingers tapping his chin as he studies Lance. Lance runs his hands down his face, groaning faintly. “There's so many questions I wanna ask, but... magic? Enchanted spells? That's a _thing_?”

“Hunk, we fly giant, sentient lion robots to fight against a large purple bat race, and you're questioning _this_?” Pidge says, mildly disbelieving.

“Your whole life is dedicated to the laws of science, and _you_ believe this?” Hunk shoots back.

“Paladins,” Coran interrupts, “Perhaps it's best if you all rest up. It was a long day, after all.”

Unanimous agreement sweeps over them, and so slowly they make their way towards their rooms, a delicate silence between them all as no one knows quite what to say. Keith feels partially thankful for it, finally glad for the chance be alone again, to find comfort in something as familiar as his room is now.

“Lance, Keith,” Shiro stops them, his stance more confident than it had been moments earlier. “Whatever happens, we'll fix it together. As a team.”

“I wish there was a handbook for this kind of thing, but yeah. What Shiro said,” Hunk smiles reassuringly.

“Same,” Pidge adds.

Keith gives them all a small nod, while Lance dramatically poses into a prayer.

“Whoever's listening, alien God's or otherwise, just get us out of this mess ASAP. I wasn't born into this life to suddenly have a _mullet_ —”

“This is _so_ weird,” Hunk whispers, and Keith can't help but agree as they watch Lance move about energetically as Keith. It's completely surreal to be an outsider and watch someone else be the owner of your voice and actions and expressions. He wonders how looking at him being Lance was startling the others. Probably not nearly as strange.

“We'll see what happens in the morning,” Shiro finishes, now heading towards his room at the end of the hall. “Maybe this will all blow over.”

“I hope so,” Keith mutters.

Hunk pats both him and Lance on the shoulder as he leaves, and Pidge was still frowning slightly, like she was caught in some hallucinogenic trip.

“You want me to pinch you awake?” Keith offers a sad smirk.

“Of all the people for this to happen to,” she shakes her head sympathetically. “I hope the Galra Empire is understanding and cuts us some slack.”

Lance forces out a laugh. “You're _hilarious_ , Pidge.”

“Goodnight you two, don't kill each other in your sleep,” are her parting words before she steps into her room across the hall. When it's just Keith and Lance alone again, Keith tries his best to not look at Lance, to pretend for a moment that everything has just been a bad dream. That this wasn't really happening.

“So,” Lance broke the quiet, “You want to bunk in my room? Since it has all my stuff, and...”

Keith sighs and debates it quickly. “We'll worry about it tomorrow. I just... want to sleep.”

He can practically feel Lance shrug, and not wanting to linger out in the hall any longer, he punches the code into his keypad and steps inside. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly he strips out of his garments, eyes careful not to look down at Lance's...

He suddenly feels an embarrassed flush overtake him, and he's not sure why. No one was around, and this was the body he had to live in now, but... the invasion of privacy still manifested despite everything. This was new territory.

Perhaps he should have mentioned it to Lance, too, but he honestly can't be bothered to go back out there to discuss the matter of keeping their privates _private_. The issue felt small in comparison to today and everything else they dealt with on a regular basis.

So he quickly changed into the Altean pajamas he'd never bothered to use until now, the sleeves coming up a bit short along the arms, and his eyes catch the beginning of a scar close to Lance's tendon. It was a small cut, but it looks like it had been deep when he'd gotten it. Instinctively, Keith raises a finger to trace along the bump, but stops himself short. _This isn't yours_.

Eyes closing as he breathes deeply, he finally makes his feet move towards the bed, settling down, and with every move he makes under the covers – hips, arms, legs – he can't help but notice the difference in comfort. Lance's body seems slightly less padded, bones awkward and lanky, and with a tired huff Keith squeezes his eyes shut a final time in the hopes sleep would come soon.

 

* * *

 

In the end, sleep hadn't come so easy.

He'd woken up in the night more times than he could count, and almost all of those times he had run his hands over himself, half-convinced it was still just some fucked up dream and he really hadn't swapped bodies with Lance. But his hair was still short, nose slightly more curved, Adam's apple more prominent.

Another detail he hadn't noticed the day before during all of the panic, as he ran his tongue along the back of Lance's teeth, he realised the other boy had a permanent retainer. Keith only knew it was that because he remembered a kid in high school who had to have braces for almost 3 years.

With a strain in his back he wasn't used to, and feet a touch more unbalanced when first waking up, he hauls himself out of bed in the morning to go and splash some water on his face. Momentarily startled by the reflection in the mirror, he pauses by the sink, hands gripping the rim as he calms his heart down.

_This will blow over soon. Allura and Coran will find a cure. You won't be like this forever._

… _Patience yields focus._

He brushes his teeth quickly, purposefully looking to the wall instead, and then comes to a striking halt when another issue presents itself with pressuring force.

He needs to pee. Badly.

In a rush to forget this entire ordeal, he hadn't bothered to piss last night. But now, in the early morning of a new day, it was unavoidable, and all too suddenly he's flooded with a number of other things he might have to succumb to while trapped in Lance's body.

Great, just great.

He grits his teeth, drawing in a long breath to ready himself, and turns determinedly to face the toilet. Lifting the seat up, he stares at it for a moment, as if for one final debate, before shucking down his pants to rest at his thighs. Without looking, he still manages to aim well enough, the pads of his fingers only barely keeping himself in place, too flustered to grip it firmly.

Finally done after what felt like an eternity, he washes his hands quickly and leaves the bathroom, more than eager to distract himself with anything else. He starts simple and decides to get dressed. Looking at his clothes, he thinks he can still fit into them. He and Lance are roughly the same size, mind the small height difference. A silver lining, sort of.

So he changes (also quickly), thankful his shirt and underwear remain at the same fit (he tries not to think about the underwear too much). The pants come up a bit short, and tighter, but still usable. The jacket was a squeeze, his new shoulders much broader than his own, so he skips it for now. The only thing that didn't work out were his shoes. He sighs, figuring he'd need to wear Lance's pair. Logically, he knows they could save a lot of time by just wearing the other's clothes, but he wants to feel familiar in his own skin, and thankfully his own clothes start to help with that once he finishes slipping on his gloves.

Exiting his room, he takes a few forceful steps until he's standing in front of Lance's door, and so he knocks twice, wondering if Lance was still sleeping like he did most mornings. Only the door slides open, with a disgruntled Lance – _Keith_ – appearing no better than Keith felt.

Much like Keith, Lance had also dressed up in his own clothes, but his feet remained bare. Keith guesses they had the same problem.

“Man, I look... _weird_ , wearing your clothes,” Lance comments as he eyes Keith up and down.

Keith frowns. “It's just black pants and a t-shirt.”

“Still, but how tight _are_ those, seriously?” Lance almost squeaks as he points to Keith's pants. There's a hint of a blush high on Lance's cheeks as he says it. Keith chooses to ignore it. “I had to roll up my pants a little, and how is it your body is almost _drowning_ in my jacket? I never knew your waist was so small,” Lance says, lifting his arms up, the green jacket confirming his statement by displaying how big it was.

“Whatever,” Keith dismisses as he holds up his shoes, dangling them. “I think we need our own shoes, though. Your feet barely fit in mine.”

“Well, you know what they say about big feet,” Lance waggles his brows, and damn, if that isn't bizarre to see on Keith's own face.

“Just go and get yours, okay?” Keith tries hard not to think about _anything_ relating to big feet.

“Alright, alright, calm down, gimme a second.”

Lance retreats into his room, but the door remains open. Keith can't help but glance inside, and is mildly surprised by how messy Lance's room is. Keith wouldn't have pegged him as that kind of person, considering how rigorously Lance sticks to his routines. Some books lay open near the head of his bed, and Keith wonders when had Lance found books to read, assuming they were written in his language. Clothes were flung about, mostly in piles, and taped to the wall above his bed was a drawing of some people he'd never seen before. He inspects it closer, mildly curious, and after some searching he realises it's the same people he'd seen Lance picture back when they'd done those team building exercises.

A throat is cleared behind him. Keith turns to see Lance holding out his shoes.

“Right. Thanks.”

“No problem,” and in turn Lance accepts Keith's shoes in the exchange.

There's an awkward silence for a moment, and finally Keith decides he's seen enough for now and hastily leaves the room. “I'll... see you at breakfast.”

“Sure,” Lance says, but his voice has lost a touch of it's familiar buoyancy.

Keith has an odd urge to turn back and ask what's wrong, but he leaves it, hearing the door slide closed behind him. With nothing left to do but wait for Allura and Coran's return, he makes his way down to the kitchen, desperate for something to settle his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Pidge had been the only other person seated in the communal lounge, flicking aimlessly through her tablet which currently displayed facts about the planet they were currently on. He greets her with a nod when she looks up, and she waves a hand back. Neither of them were that keen on interacting first thing in the morning.

So he goes to find something other than food-goo in the kitchen, ultimately pouring himself a drink that vaguely resembled coffee, but smelled oddly of caramel. It did its job though, and gradually started to wake him up.

An awkward moment did present itself when Hunk had walked past them a while later, casually throwing out a, “Morning Pidge, Lance,” before he stops to frown at himself, and then goes, “Wait.”

“Still Keith,” he smiles sadly.

“Ah, right,” Hunk abandons his trip to the kitchen for now and comes over to settle down between Pidge and Keith. “Sorry man. I didn't even notice the new clothes. How... uh, how are you feeling? If that's not annoying to ask.”

Keith shrugs. Hunk's a nice guy, and Keith's never felt the need to hide anything from him. “Fine, I guess. No one's maimed each other... yet.”

Pidge snorts, and then waves a hand apologetically. “I saw Allura and Coran off. They should be back soon, I think.”

“I hope it's good news,” Hunk shuffles about, making a pained expression.

Shiro walks into the room, with Lance following behind him. Keith watches Lance, his movements, how different they are to how he would usually act on a normal day. Shiro seems slightly uneasy, and Keith wonders of he had greeted Lance as Keith by accident too in his morning daze.

“Whoa, it's odd seeing Keith wear anything baggy,” Hunk says, a touch teasing.

“My clothes aren't baggy,” Lance protests as he straightens out his hood. “They're stylishly comfortable.”

“Sure,” Pidge snickers, but soon goes back to her tablet when some information draws her attention.

Shiro takes a seat on Keith's left, and Keith can feel his friend eyeing him warily. Keith sighs, eventually turning to him with a pointed look. Shiro holds his hands up in a sympathetic gesture. “I know it's frustrating, but I just need to make sure you're okay.”

Perhaps the 'Are you okay?' question will start to get annoying soon, but he respects Shiro too much to not answer him truthfully. “Like I said to Hunk, I'm fine. But I'll be much better if this nightmare can be over soon.”

“You don't have to lie, Keith. I know having a chance to be me has been a dream of yours,” Lance jokes, but something in his words sing a different tune.

Keith makes a face at him. Lance makes one back. It's then that the Altean's return as they step through the large archway to the room, but with one look at them, Keith can already see that the trip had been proven fruitless, just as Coran had predicted yesterday.

“Paladin's,” Allura greets, but that familiar confidence in her voice is absent as she gazes between Keith and Lance. “I'm afraid there was nothing we could do. The council have apologised greatly for Grethina's actions, but regarded there was no way to be able to reverse her spell.” She shares a look with Coran, who places a hand on her shoulder. “I feel as though I have let you down.”

“You haven't, Princess,” Shiro insists.

“Yeah,” Lance pipes up, “It was our own stupid fault.”

“ _We're_ sorry, Princess,” Keith says, standing up. “Who knows how this could affect us now. It was irresponsible of us.”

She nods, silently accepting their apology. Coran adds his two cents, though.

“Like I said, this may be a tough situation to be in, but it's every opportunity to become a stronger team.”

Keith glances briefly at Lance, not quite believing the words yet.

“As you said yesterday, Keith, perhaps you both should check on your lions to see if they still respond to you. We can't jump into battle and risk something going wrong,” Allura says worriedly.

Keith nods, and sees Lance do the same in his peripheral vision. It's a possibility that had been clawing away at him for most of the night and morning, because the thought of being unable to form Voltron when the situation demands it was a factor they didn't want to consider.

He begins the walk towards his lion's hangar, and doesn't wait to watch Lance do the same. A few hallways later as he gets closer, he notices with a pang of dread that the connection he usually feels to Red hasn't appeared yet, their line nothing but a vague flicker compared to their previously respectful partnership.

When he finally reaches her massive frame, Red's eyes glow as if in greeting, if only for a short lived second, before he feels her draw back instinctively, shield struggling on the urge to protect versus her knowledge of a familiar presence. He halts, not wanting to startle her further, and waits patiently for some kind of recognition to jump-start their bond again.

Only it doesn't come.

Before real worry makes its way up his throat, like burning coal, he hears faint steps approaching him. He turns, and is mildly surprised to find Allura there.

“Judging by your expression, I'd say you don't have good news either,” she says, and Keith can tell it's more of a statement.

He confirms it anyway. “No.”

“I was afraid of that,” she sighs, long and deep. Keith desperately wants the guilt in his chest to disappear, hating that this is even happening at all.

“Allura, I really am sorry. I know Lance is too.”

She offers him a smile, a tentative smile that has been through much more sorrow and hardship than Keith can even imagine. A smile that was barely holding it together. He hates being the reason it's there.

“We are all fighting our battles and dealing with much more than I'd ever wish upon anyone,” she says, walking past him while her gaze stays locked on Red. “I realise now that... you all were thrown into this war without much of a choice. Pidge is so young. All of you... I... I regret not thinking about this more objectively.”

He lets the words settle around them before stepping forward to meet Allura at her side. A struggle was taking place in her stance, caught between the role of leader and the lingering loss of her entire race threatening to crush her flat. He hesitates before eventually finding the courage to slowly wrap his fingers around her wrist, squeezing once.

“You've always said we can leave if we want, but we've all chosen to stay. We're here to help,” he offers, and she seems to take that into consideration. “But you... you didn't have a choice. You deserve an out, too. It's a lot to suddenly have to accept.”

They stay like that for a while, two souls standing defeated in the vastness of the hangar – a hangar that had been absent of life for more than ten thousand years. It was haunting. He looks up to Red again, hoping for a miracle, but is still met with the hesitancy of before. Eyes downcast, he crosses his arms in defeat. For now.

“I think it has to do with your DNA,” Allura says after a while. “Your lion recognises your quintessence, but is ultimately confused as to why your physical appearance is different. She's guarded, but there is still hope.”

Keith nods, knowing there isn't much else to add on.

Eventually they leave, and in not much time Lance rejoins them in the lounge with Coran by his side. They share equally regretful looks, so Keith finally accepts that this is an issue they are going to have to get past soon if there is to be any hope of forming Voltron again.

“I can't believe it!” Lance is saying as they get closer. “I never thought Blue would reject me. We're supposed to be best buds, and now she won't even let her shield down because I'm just in a different body!?”

“ _Just_ in a different body?” Pidge repeats. “There's something I'd never thought I'd hear be said casually.”

“That sucks man,” Hunk says.

“Yeah.”

“Keith, I'm right to assume you had no luck either?” Coran asks.

“No.”

“Well then,” Shiro speaks up, his level tone helping Keith to relax, if only a bit. “We'll just have to start training again, back to the beginning. We need to build up our bonds more, clearly, so now it's our number one priority to ensure Keith and Lance's lion accept them again.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Pidge groans, rubbing at her temple. “This will be interesting.”

“We have the Lymikens on page alert, in case some helpful news were to arise. But for now, unfortunately, we're back to square one,” Coran says.

“Let's everyone just rest for a few hours. We have all day to train,” Allura suggests, the beginning of a smile as she looks to Keith.

“If you're sure, Princess,” Shiro says slowly, accepting her decision when she nods in answer.

“Hey buddy, you wanna hang out while I experiment with weird Altean ingredients?” Hunk nudges Lance's side, clearly attempting to lighten his friend's mood. Gradually Lance caves, and the two leave while Hunk supposedly starts up a joke to get Lance to laugh.

“Keith?” Shiro says, and Keith meets his gaze. “We can still train if you'd like?”

Keith feels his hand twitch at the thought, the urge to get out there to be rid of some of this tension a tempting offer. Not wanting to worry Shiro any more than he already is, he agrees, and Shiro follows behind as they walk to the training deck together. Once they step through the doors Keith squats down into a stretch, instantly feeling the difference in Lance's body, and is proven surprised when it becomes obvious Lance takes care of his muscles.

“Want to start a training sequence, or just stick with close combat?”

Keith ponders. He looks down to his hands again, curious. “Combat.”

Shiro nods, stepping over to the mat as he cracks his neck. “Ready when you are.”

Keith draws in a breath, and joins him a moment later.

It was going to be a long day.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> and that's the end of part 1!  
> please let me know what you're all thinking, or what you think might happen, comments/love are what keep me alive :D  
> and I hope you'll enjoy the other parts to come! 
> 
> wanna chat? find me on [/tumblr](http://edsbrak.tumblr.com/) x


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